


The Hunter and the Doctor

by ImOutOfMyVulcanMind (LoopyLu94)



Series: A Hunters Journey [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Hunters, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Confused!Leonard, Hunter!Jim, M/M, Supernatural AU - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 12:47:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13524570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoopyLu94/pseuds/ImOutOfMyVulcanMind
Summary: “A fucking poltergeist?! Jesus.”Jim smiled sympathetically, “This is why I told you to go. Go back to your mom, and I’ll come see you when I’m done,” he said, helping Leonard back to his feet.Leonard looked at him for a moment, then to his gear, and finally back to the ladle. He shook his head, “No. If this shit is real, I want to help destroy it. I need to know Ma is safe.”





	The Hunter and the Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> The Star Trek/Supernatural AU nobody asked for! Each story will be separate but set in the same universe.

Jim stifled a sigh as he tugged at the knot of the black tie around his neck. He hated wearing the thing, it always made him feel like he was choking. But he had to wear it. Couldn’t exactly get away with being FBI without a formal suit. He was hungry too. He always got hungry after a case. Jim wondered if he should stop by the hospital cafeteria while he was there, but he had a craving for a nice juicy burger and some fries, and he doubted he’d get that here. It would also be good to get out of this damned outfit. He didn’t need to wear it anymore. He’d informed the overly concerned coroner that there’d be no more mauled bodies showing up on her table, and pocketed her cell number that she’d passed him with her best flirty smile. Which had been pretty flirty seeing as there was a dead body between them. He somehow doubted he’d end up calling her, but it was always nice. **  
**

“Leonard, I’m _telling you_ I was pushed down the stairs! I didn’t fall!”

“Ma, no one could’ve pushed you. You were on your own in the house. I’ve looked at the security footage, no one got in or got out.”

Jim paused outside one of the rooms he was passing, curiosity piqued and listened to the conversation of the elderly woman, and who he guessed was her son.

“Leonard Horatio McCoy I am not senile! There is something not right about that house. It’s been making strange noises since I’ve moved in. And things have been moving by themselves! I put a mug down on one side of the table, and when I turn back it’s on the other side! And now this! I was pushed down those stairs! I felt it!” The woman sounded exasperated.

“It’s an old house, it’s bound to make noises.” The other person, Leonard was speaking calmly. “And even I think I’ve put something in one place, only for it to be somewhere else. Relax, Ma, it was just an accident. In a few days, you’ll be fine. Now are you in pain anywhere?”

There was an audible sigh, and Jim could just picture the annoyed look on the woman’s face. “My arm still hurts. Those painkillers haven’t done much.”

Jim heard footsteps, and the rustle of paper, “I’ll have a word with your Doctor. Tell him to switch your painkillers.”

“You’re not a Doctor here, Leonard, you can’t order anyone around.”

“You’re my mother, watch me.” More footsteps, the sound of a jacket being pulled on. “I’ll come back later with some things for you, okay?”

“Alright. Thank you for coming down at such short notice.”

“Anything for you, Ma.”

Jim turned his back quickly as the footsteps got closer, and pretended he hadn’t been eavesdropping. He glanced over his shoulder to see a dark haired man walk down the corridor away from him, and waited until he was out of sight before plucking his fake ID out of his pocket. He hadn’t expected another case so soon, especially not in the same small town, but this was definitely a case.

Jim approached the door to the room, and knocked softly, “Ma’am? Toby Howard, FBI. May I have a word?” He approached the woman’s bed and held up his ID for her to see. As she squinted at it, Jim glanced at the name above her bed. Eleanora McCoy.

Eleanora nodded slowly, “Take a seat, Agent Howard. What can I do for you?”

Jim sat on the chair by the side of the bed, tucking his ID away. “I heard you had an accident, Mrs. McCoy.”

“The FBI is investigating old ladies falling down the stairs these days? Nothing better to do?”

Jim laughed, “We like to make sure all this country’s citizens are safe, and you said someone pushed you? That you didn’t fall? If this was an attempt on your life, then we take that very seriously, ma’am.”

Eleanora was still eyeing him suspiciously but didn’t press his identity further. “If you talk to my son, he’d tell you I wasn’t pushed.”

“I’m talking to you, ma’am,” Jim smiled, leaning forward to settle his elbows on his knees. “Is there anything you can tell me? Did you see or hear something?”

“No. That’s just it, there was nothing, but I felt it. There was pressure on my back that pushed me,” Eleanora told him. “I was only upstairs to get a shawl out. It got so cold suddenly. Then just as I was ready to head back down, the lights started flickering, and I felt the pressure.”

Jim nodded, “The lights and the cold, is that something new?”

Eleanora shook her head, “It’s been happening since I moved in. I’ve had people in to look at it, and everything should be fine,” she sighed. “Never should’ve moved here. I was happy in my old house, but Leonard, my son, convinced me that it’d be better to move into a town so I wouldn’t be trapped in the middle of nowhere if something bad happened. I move, and something bad does happen. There’s something wrong with that house, I’ll tell you.”

“I believe you, ma’am. If you want, I can check it out for you, see if I can find the problem and fix it before you’re discharged.”

“There’s a key under the left plant pot next to the door, and,” Eleanora grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled something on it, before passing it to Jim, “this is my address.”

“Okay.” Jim gave Eleanora another smile, and pushed himself up, “Don’t worry, I’ll get things sorted for you.”

Eleanora grabbed his hand and squeezed it, “Thank you, son.”

Jim squeezed back, then once his hand was released, turned and left the room. He had some work to do.

~

A trip back to his motel to change, a visit to the library to research, and a drive through a McDonald’s later, Jim sat outside Eleanora’s house, wiping the remains of his burger off his fingers. He’d found everything he could about the house, worked it all out. He was sure that there was a poltergeist in there. Not quite a ghost, not quite a vengeful spirit. But still major trouble. The solution was buried in that house somewhere, he just had to find it.

Jim tossed the empty wrapper and napkin onto the passenger seat and stepped out of the car. He walked around to the trunk, popping it open to grab the bag full of his gear, and headed up the path towards the door. The spare key had been right where Eleanora had said it would be, and Jim let himself in with ease.

Jim looked around as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. It was nice, a little old-fashioned for his tastes, but still homely enough. He paused on his way through to look at a desk covered in photographs. All family by the looks of it. There was an old black and white photo of a couple in wedding attire, a good half dozen of aged pictures showing a boy at varying stages in his life. One of the dark-haired man, which Jim figured was Leonard, holding a small baby in his arms and grinning like a fool. The center photograph took pride of place it seemed. Fairly recent, it showed Eleanora sitting, with Leonard standing behind her, and a young girl of about five, sitting on her lap. The girl must’ve been Leonard’s kid, she had his eyes. They all looked happy and it made Jim smile. Helping families like this was what kept him getting up in the morning, though always a part of him wondered what it would be like to have something like that himself.

Snapping himself out of it, Jim made his way through to the kitchen and set his bag down. Opening it, he pulled out his EMF meter and turned it on. Theories confirmed. The device immediately picked up high levels of EMF, and as he walked around the house, they didn’t drop in the slightest. Time to get to work. Jim switched off the meter and headed back down to the kitchen.

“The hell are you doing in here?” Jim spun around to come face to face with Leonard who was glowering at him from the kitchen alcove.

“Toby Howard, FBI.” Jim plucked his ID from his jeans pocket, grateful that he’d shoved it in in case of emergency, and flipped it open. “I’m guessing you’re Mrs. McCoy’s son?”

“Doctor Leonard McCoy,” the other said, grabbing Jim’s ID and examining it closely. “I assume you’re the one who owns that red Corvette death trap out front?”

“That’s me, but it’s perfectly safe. Just because it’s old, doesn’t make it dangerous,” Jim retorted, taking back the badge and pocketing it again.

Leonard huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Doesn’t look like something FBI would drive about in, and that outfit,” Leonard gestured to Jim’s jeans and leather jacket, “Don’t look like FBI attire either.”

Was this guy always so surly? “Seemed pointless getting my nice suit dirty, and we are allowed to own other clothes too, y’know?” Jim answered with an overly bright smile, just to piss the other off more. “I’m here to help your mother, Dr. McCoy, so if you could please leave. Official business and all.”

Leonard snorted, “Here to help my mother? She thinks some ghost is messing around with her.”

“Not a believer then?”

“ _You are?_ Lord, what department are you even from? The X-Files?”

“Just call me ‘Spooky’,” Jim winked, turning back to his bag. “But I can’t give away any information I’m afraid. It’s a need to know bases. I’m just here to investigate.”

Leonard stormed over to the other side of the kitchen table so he was facing Jim again. “And you want me to leave? Yeah, right. I’m not leaving some weird, supposed FBI agent alone in my mother’s house. So you tell me what’s going on, or I’ll call the cops.”

Jim sighed, he really didn’t have time for this. “You wanna know? Fine. There’s a poltergeist in this house, and if I don’t get rid of it, it won’t stop until it’s killed your mother. Is that what you want?”

Leonard gaped at him for a moment, and Jim hoped he’d bolt, but unfortunately, he pulled himself out of it. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“Look, this house is old, real old. And back in 1890, a couple murdered their kid and hid the body. They confessed about what they did, and they confessed that the body was somewhere in this house, but they never said where, and the police at the time never found it. And ever since then, anyone who’s moved in, has had hell.”

“The couple my mom bought this house from had no trouble other than a few flickering lights.”

“Because they weren’t parents. The bones of the kid are still here somewhere, and it’s binding them to the house. They’re pissed over getting murdered, so it’s targeting anyone who’s a parent.”

Leonard barked a laugh, “You really expect me to believe that horseshit? I’m a parent, and this thing hasn’t come after m-AHH!” Leonard was cut off by a ladle whacking into his head as it flew across the room.

“Shit, are you okay?” Jim ran around the table and crouched down in front of Leonard.

“Fucking hell what _was_ that?” Leonard cursed, holding his head in his hands as he stared at the ladle on the floor not far from them.

“I hate to say I told you so, but…” Jim pulled Leonard’s hand away and looked at where the ladle had made contact, There was no broken skin which Jim took to be a good sign. He was no expert, but he knew he’d taken harder blows to the head than that, and he’d never had any problems. Other than a headache, Leonard would be fine he figured.

“A fucking poltergeist?! Jesus.”

Jim smiled sympathetically, “This is why I told you to go. Go back to your mom, and I’ll come see you when I’m done,” he said, helping Leonard back to his feet.

Leonard looked at him for a moment, then to his gear, and finally back to the ladle. He shook his head, “No. If this shit is real, I want to help destroy it. I need to know Ma is safe.”

Jim wanted to protest, but he could see that arguing would get him nowhere and just waste more time. “Fine, you can stay. But you do what I say when I say it, got it?” Leonard nodded silently and watched as Jim zipped up his bag with a raised eyebrow. “We need to search the house and find those bones. When we do, we salt and burn them,” he explained.

“And that’ll get rid of the poltergeist?”

Jim nodded, “Yeah.”

“Right. So where do we start?”

“We clear each room one by one. Look for anything out of the ordinary. It’ll be subtle; a wall thinner than the rest, or a tiny hatch in an out of the way place. Anything.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

They started with the kitchen, working their way around it, emptying cupboards and peering into every tiny nook. There was nothing. So they moved on, clearing the rest of the downstairs with no luck. Leonard was quiet, Jim noted as they moved upstairs. Quieter than he’d been since Jim had seen him that morning. He glanced over at the other man. Leonard was frowning to himself, as he knocked on the wall opposite him, searching for something hollow. Jim did feel sorry for him. He usually tried to avoid letting victims in on what really went on, and when he had no choice, he preferred to do it differently. He knew what a shock it could be, and it was usually better to sit down to explain it all. Not do it in the middle of a case.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Other than finding out damned poltergeists exist, and that one wants to kill Ma and me, I’m just peachy,” Leonard grumbled as they entered the spare bedroom.

Jim chuckled quietly, “It’s a lot to take in, I know. I usually suggest a large glass of good bourbon to help with the shock.”

“That sounds like my kind of remedy, _Agent Howard_.” The emphasis Leonard put on his name made him turn and look Leonard. The other was watching him with a slight smirk.

“Alright, I’m not FBI. And my name isn’t Toby Howard. I’m Jim. Jim Kirk.”

“Nice to meet ya, Jim,” Leonard rolled his eyes and went back to work, going into the room’s closet. Jim heard him knock on the wall and caught the difference in the sound immediately. “Jim?” Leonard stuck his head out.

“Yeah.” They exchanged places, and Jim tapped along the wall inside the closet. There was definitely a hollow space behind it, and as he felt, Jim could feel it wasn’t the same sturdy material the rest of the house was built from. “We need to break this wall down.” Jim stepped out, and went to his bag, pulling out a sledgehammer.

“Lord, is there anything you don’t keep in that bag?”

“Very little,” Jim grinned, pushing the object into Leonard’s hand. “Get cracking. I need to set things up in the bathroom so we can burn the bones immediately. We won’t have much time.”

Leonard looked like he wanted to protest, but didn’t. “My bones are too old for this crap,” he muttered under his breath as he took the sledgehammer. Jim just chuckled and took his boxes of salt, gas, and matches into the adjoining bathroom. He doubted the spirit would let them get outside with the bones, he was honestly surprised that they’d made this far with no further interruptions so the bathtub would have to suffice to burn in. Jim could hear Leonard hit the wall, the thuds echoing around the house as he set out the items next to the bath. Jim heard a crack, swiftly followed by a cry and another thud.

He sprinted back into the bedroom, skidding to a stop in front of the closet. Leonard was sat on the floor, surrounded by wall debris, and staring at the skull sitting in his lap. It was horrifying, but Jim still giggled. “Looks like you’ve found some bones as old as yours.”

Leonard shot him a glare, as he carefully picked himself up. “Shut it you,” he grumbled, looking down at the bones on the floor. “Guess we found him.”

“Yeah. Now we need to get every bone. We can’t miss one, and we need to do it qui-unf.” Before he could even finish, Jim was thrown across the room and slammed hard into the wall.

“Jim!”

“Get the bones, burn them!” Jim shouted as the invisible force threw him back across the room. He hit the floor with a grimace but scrambled for his bag. His hand closed around the iron bar just in time as an ice-cold grip grabbed his ankle. Jim swung the bar around, and the grip disappeared in a puff of smoke. The lights in the room flickered, and the whole house shook in its foundations. Jim glanced to Leonard who was clinging to the bathroom door frame with wide eyes. “Get everything in the tub! Pour salt on it, then gas and burn it! I’ll hold it off!” He shouted, swinging the iron bar around again when a shimmer caught his eye. If the thing was manifesting that it must be really pissed.

Jim swirled around the room, heart hammering in his chest as he searched for a glimpse. Leonard was still gathering up the bones. A lamp smashed into Jim’s head, knocking his balance, the desk it had been sitting on soon following and throwing him completely. Jim groaned as pain blossomed across his back. Jim was picked up again and thrown into a mirror, jerking the iron bar free from his grip.

He slumped to the floor, panting heavily as he made a dive for the bar, but the hold on his ankle returned, dragging him across the floor. Jim fought, trying to break loose the death grip. He somehow succeeded, but before he could get away, a cable wrapped around his neck tightly, tugging him backward. Jim clawed at it, but it only looped around again and constricted tighter. He couldn’t breathe. He gasped for air, but nothing got in. Jim squirmed around, trying to get free. Nothing worked. Black spots appeared across his vision, and everything grew hazy.

The high pitch screech was deafening as the spirit behind him burst into flame. Jim jerked away quickly, yanking the cord free of his neck and gasping in puffs of oxygen. He watched the poltergeist burn and disappear into nothing. And everything stopped. The lights stopped flashing, the house stopped shaking. Everything turned quiet.

“Jim?” Leonard emerged from the bathroom and ran to Jim’s side. “Are you okay? Is it over?”

Jim nodded slumping against the nearest solid surface, which was apparently Leonard’s shoulder. “M’fine,” he murmured, rubbing at his neck. “It’s gone. You did good.”

Leonard smiled at him. Jim hadn’t noticed before how handsome the other was. This close, Jim could see the swirls of green and brown in his hazel eyes. They were gorgeous. Or maybe it was the oxygen deprivation thinking that. Leonard slumped next to him, catching his own breath. “Thank you, Jim.”

Jim gave a smile of his own. “Anytime.”

~

Three days later, Jim rang the bell of Eleanora’s house. He rubbed the marks around his neck subconsciously as he waited, but immediately dropped his hand when Leonard opened the door. He smiled, “Hey, Bones.”

“That is not my nickname, Jim. No.” Leonard muttered, stepping aside to let Jim in. “Ma’s in the kitchen.”

Jim nodded, walking with Leonard, “Everything been quiet?”

“Not heard a peep,” Leonard answered. “You go sit down, and I’ll take a look at you. Need to see if those stitches are doing okay.”

“Bones, I’m fine.”

“Who’s the Doctor here exactly?”

Jim sighed, “Fine.” He rolled his eyes and finished making his way into the kitchen. “Hi, Mrs. McCoy. How you feeling?” he asked upon seeing Eleanora.

“I’m just fine thanks to you boys,” Eleanora told him, pulling him in for a hug as soon as he was close enough. “Thank you.”

“It’s what I do, ma’am.”

“What? Impersonate law officials, and nearly get yourself killed?” Leonard said as he returned to the kitchen.

“I help people. Which is exactly what you do. Only my way is a little unorthodox.”

“Only a little?” Leonard asked, voice dripping with sarcasm as he began to examine the stitches he’d put in Jim’s head.

“Don’t listen to him, Jim. What you do is heroic,” Eleanora told him.

“Oh.” Jim blushed, dropping his gaze. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Leonard must have sensed his uncomfortableness. “So…monsters are real. And they’re what? Everywhere?”

“Not everywhere, but they’re around, yeah.”

Leonard hummed, “I have to ask. Trump?”

Jim laughed, “Human, unfortunately. I’ve checked into it. Thoroughly.”

“That’s a shame; I was hoping my faith in humanity could be restored,” Leonard sighed, stepping away from Jim. “It’s looking fine. Stick around a few more days, and I’ll remove them for you.”

It felt weird, having someone practically ask him to stay. Usually, people were glad to see the back of him. And Jim could stay if he wanted, which he did. He really did. But he couldn’t risk getting too close to Leonard or Eleanora. That was too dangerous. “I wish I could, but I got a call from a friend, and they have another case, so I’ve got to get going.” He pushed himself up and smiled again. “I just swung by to see if you were okay.” He hugged Eleanora again and turned to Leonard. The other was wearing an expression that looked like disappointment, and there was a pause where Jim didn’t know if Leonard was going to hug him too, but in the end, they just shook hands. “If you ever have trouble with anything else, here’s my number.” He handed Leonard the paper.

“I’ll see you out.” Leonard walked Jim to the door. There was one more pause then Leonard was wrapping his arms around him. “Be safe out there, Jim,” Leonard whispered.

“Always, Bones,” Jim answered, pulling away. “See you around.”

“Bye, kid.” Leonard watched Jim head back to his car, and as he drove off, Jim could see in his mirror that Leonard kept watching him until he disappeared from sight.

Jim sighed, hitting the stereo and turning the volume way up. The Beastie Boys blared out, but even that wasn’t enough to cheer him up. He knew it was dumb, getting attached to the people you helped, that was the first rule his mom had taught him. And Jim had always been good at that. He cared enough to help, but could always drive away without looking back. This was different. He’d never connected with anyone like he connected to Eleanora and Leonard, and a large part of him wished he’d see them again. But it was doubtful. In a week they’d have forgotten about him. Jim was sure he’d never see them again.

Or would he?


End file.
